


Peppermint

by fireandhoney



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Candy Canes, Christmas, Christmas 2020, Christmas Advent 2020, Crack, Crack Fic, Funny, John facepalming, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Peppermint, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock being obsessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:55:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fireandhoney/pseuds/fireandhoney
Summary: Just Sherlock being Sherlock about peppermint
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Peppermint

“You know, I never understood these trends of seasonal flavouring. What about the climate being cooler and the weather turning our incessant rain into incessant snow justifies desiring a flavour more than another?”  
“I guess it reminds people of the season, it’s just associating two ideas togethe-”  
“Well, it’s ridiculous. My likes and dislikes aren’t controlled by the arbitrary date on the calendar.”  
“Of course not, you’re too cool for that.” John rolled his eyes, amused.   
“What?”  
“Oh, nothing…Who would have thought the great Sherlock Holmes is a hipster.” John kept walking, chuckling to himself, leaving a slightly confused and insulted Sherlock Holmes behind. 

Later that day, John walked into Baker Street to the unmistakable scent of peppermint and coffee. Raising an eyebrow questioningly, he glanced at Sherlock. The detective was sitting in his chair by the fireplace, holding a cup of what John could only assume to be a peppermint-flavoured coffee. Sherlock looked caught for a second, but quickly, his “I’m superior than you and will prove you why” expression returned.   
“And I assume that isn’t a Christmas flavoured drink, yeah?” John poked, shaking his head with laughter.   
Sherlock sat up straighter and squared his shoulders, which John always found ridiculous: the man had sharp angles no matter how he stood.   
“Mrs Hudson had already prepared it and brought it upstairs and no matter how much I argued, the cup ended up in my hands. You’re the one who told me it would be absolutely rude not to accept it.”  
“Because it would be, yes.” John nodded approvingly. He took off his coat and sat in his own seat across Sherlock.   
“It smells great, are you enjoying it?”  
Sherlock made a face, trying to pretend it was a torture to drink, but it quickly faded away as John was clearly not buying it.   
“Actually, I have to admit it isn’t as bad as I thought. It’s a good flavour.”  
“Then you have to enjoy it while you can, because peppermint coffee isn’t available for much longer after December.”  
Sherlock’s eyes glazed over and John knew he was far already, busy figuring something out. After a moment, he returned.   
“It’s fine, I don’t feel the need to go out and buy a large quantity of this product so I can enjoy it over the upcoming months when it isn’t being sold anymore.”  
John laughed softly, tapping Sherlock on the shoulder as he walked by him to head to the bathroom. “Sure, Sherlock.”

But it didn’t really unfold for John until three days later, when he returned from a shortened shift at the surgery. He opened the door to 221B and was frozen in place, shock being too weak of a word for how he was feeling. There were boxes upon boxes everywhere in the living room, and before John could react, Sherlock came running in from behind, climbing the stairs three at a time.   
“John! What are you doing here?”  
Blinking a few times, John looked at everything, and then at Sherlock.   
“I live here, Sherlock.”  
“Yes, yes of course, I meant, why are you back so early?” As he talked, Sherlock walked around John and started moving a few boxes, as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to try to hide them, or reorganize them.   
“Nate returned from his appointment, but…” his voice lowered, then picked back up. “I feel like I should be the one asking you what are you doing here?”  
“It’s for an experiment.”  
John frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “Try again?”  
“It’s for… uhm… observation purpose.”  
“Observation of what, Sherlock? How much you could fill our living space with cardboard boxes full of seasonal flavours?”  
“You weren’t supposed to see them!”  
“Then where were they supposed to be stored?” Now John wasn’t just surprised and annoyed, but also curious and amused.   
“In... In 221C. I asked Mrs Hudson, and she agreed…” his voice lowered to barely above a whisper. “In exchange for a small amount of money.”  
“So you-” John had to pause, trying his best to contain his laughter. “You rented 221C, a whole other flat, to store your Christmas coffee? Am I getting this right?”  
“No!” Sherlock’s answer was quick and prompt, but the rest of his sentence was weak. “It’s not just coffee…”  
The thought of Sherlock being called a basic bitch crossed John’s mind, and he exploded, laughing so much he had to lean back against the door frame.   
Once John regained control and was able to stop shaking, under Sherlock’s horrified gaze, he started picking up boxes and together, they moved them all downstairs. 

The ridiculousness didn’t reach its peak though until it ended up stretching out of Baker Street. One Sunday morning, they showed up to a crime scene, and while Lestrade was explaining what they’d got so far, Sherlock pulled a candy cane and held it in his mouth, nodding along to the DI’s explanations. Unfortunately, the only person who managed to keep a straight face was Sherlock. Lestrade stopped mid-word, his arms freezing in the air and slowly coming down. His brows furrowed and he side-glanced at John, but he was no help, shrugging and shaking his head.   
“Sherlock.. Is that a candy cane?”  
Sherlock took the cane out of his mouth long enough to annoyingly reply. “Acute observation skills, Graham.”  
Lestrade’s face scrunched up in displeasure, and John nodded, silently recognizing that the DI had walked straight into it. Sherlock ignored them and walked to the body, starting his analyzing, candy cane in mouth.   
“He has discovered peppermint flavouring.”  
“Ah.” Lestrade nodded, but it quickly turned over in his mind and he started shaking his head.   
“Actually, no. What?”  
“He spent an afternoon complaining about people’s tastes being dictated by seasons, and then Mrs Hudson forced him to try peppermint, and he went full Sherlock about it.”  
“Ah, yes. Somehow it makes sense?”  
John laughed, observing Sherlock. “Yeah, it does. Of course he would get obsessed with something as simple as peppermint, but make fun of me for reading fiction sometimes.” He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.   
Lestrade joined in on the laughter.   
“Life isn’t easy when you’re dealing with a madman regularly, I can’t even imagine living with him.”  
“Midnight violin, body parts in the fridge, and apparently, stocking ten years’ worth of peppermint flavoured coffee in the flat next to ours.”  
Lestrade’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but John’s visible desperation made him chuckle again. He taped John’s shoulder in sympathy.   
“You’re a good man, John.”  
“If the price to keep him off worse addictions is the smell of peppermint year-long, I guess I’ll learn to appreciate it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know what that was, but the imagery of Sherlock, surrounded by boxes and boxes of candy canes just wouldn't leave my mind, and this happened. Oops?


End file.
